Dear Sensei #2

Dear Sensei,

Coming to TTT to study Noh was to enter a bamboo forest. We don't have bamboo forests in the USA; so it looks very unfamiliar. It is dark and a little frightening - yet seductive in its mystery. There are 3 paths through the bamboo. They diverge, then criss-cross, then come back together. One path is more physically challenging than the others. One has puzzles we must solve in order to proceed. Another reveals exquisite images and places of worship along the way. Sometimes it’s hard to see the paths. We (Wen-Hsuan, Num, Meyu, and I are all there) trip over sections or stray into the forest. We have doubts and fears that we will be able to unveil any of the secrets of this forest. The sound of chanting leads us back and sometimes beams of moonlight break through the trees and illuminate a part of a path, and we feel encouraged. We proceed closer to the chanters. The paths come to a clearing in the bamboo with four pillars at its corners. It is bathed in soft light, and our focus concentrates on the chant and the four pillars. Now the chanting is behind us, and we step, suriashi, to the dai sho mae. We feel that reassuring tweak on the bottom of our hakama. Our fears dissolve, and we begin to dance shimai. Meyu and Num stamp with the keenest joy, and Wen-Hsuan and I fly above them. Then I find myself alone, outside of the bamboo forest, and realize I only caught a glimpse of it and that the paths led so much farther. I sigh with regret but resolve to send you some of my best and brightest students to venture into the bamboo forest.

Arigato gozaimashita.

Kate

Dear Sensei #1

Dear Sensei,
Num and I spoke of how we regretted not being able to understand Japanese. We didn’t want to miss a word of your wisdom and stories. I wish I could tell you in Japanese how much I appreciated your efforts on my behalf.
You never failed to urge us to take care of our health and to get rest. Yet, you were working long hours during the day and then coming to TTT at night with barely time to eat between. I worried about you, Oe-san, when you were suffering from a cold and when your voice would break as you chanted for us again and again. You showed unbelievable endurance and inspired us not to get lazy. Tamoi-san, you explained to me how in Noh theatre, one does everything – not just acting. You took care of the costumes, drove the cars, supported your fellow actors, and always had endless energy to give to our training and to answer our questions. After a performance that left you mopping the sweat off your brow, Katayama-san, you always had the time to give us the okay sign and to include us in your triumph.
I miss training with you all more than I can ever express. I loved those moments when I’d hear “Dai sho” or ‘So so so so so so so” or “Better!” However, I realize now that I also miss the tap of your fans on my elbow when it drooped or on my wrist when it curled in. I miss your reminders to “left stop sumi” and “kakeru not nejiru”. I relish the memories of when you shared laughter with me over my mistakes and how thrilled I was when another piece of the puzzle seemed to fall into place. I miss Oe-san’s tips on which muscles to use and which to relax, Tamoi-san’s creative exercises to teach a new concept, and Katayama-san’s use of imagery. I miss the sound of your voices chanting and the sound of the drum rhythms you added to some of our keiko. I miss watching you demonstrate, and I miss shadowing your movement.
I wish there were 3 of me to give to my students. I came to Kyoto wanting to be the student I would like to teach and the actor I would want to direct. I left Kyoto wanting to be the teacher who places a robe of feathers on the shoulders of the next generation and shows them how to fly to the moon as my 3 master teachers did for me.
Arigato gozaimashita
Kate

Our sensei rock!!

But the real stars of the recital were our sensei. All the sensei performed a piece either at the beginning or the end, but our sensei also supported others. Oe-san chanted for Wen-Hsuan as she did her shoulder drum solo. All three Noh sensei chanted in accompaniment for the drum sensei. Then they performed their own shimai and chanted for each other. Tamoi-san did a warrior dance from 'Ebira' that took our breath away. Although we had seen him demonstrate steps and kata many times,and of course he demonstrated parts of the role of the snake ghost from Dojo-ji, we had never seen Tamoi-san play a full shimai. Our gentle sensei looked so fierce! We were thrilled! Katayama-san performed a poignant dance of a woman mourning her husband's infidelity ('Izutsu')as Tamoi-san and Oe-san moaned a soft utai. The power of Katayama's stillness and the low moaning intensified the depiction of her grief. Then Oe-san took the dai sho mae and EXPLODED as a demon. The whole stage (his home turf!) shook as he stamped and leapt around the stage. At the end, he jumped in the air did a 360 and landed with a deafening crash! I think everyone in the audience was panting by the end! We rushed backstage to meet our masters and to prepare for the final act - and unprecedented event of amateurs (us!) assisting in a chorus that a professional (Katayama Shingo Sensei!) would dance to as a god foretelling the future of the emperor ('Kuzu kiri'). This was the utai we had struggled so much to learn. (see Post "Feeling Competitive" August 1) We bowed to each other backstage and walked out to take our places - women in front, men in back. Katayama-san entered, we took our fans into our laps as he began the utai - "Hereupon, his sacred presence manifests itself" - Katayama-san stood, and I desperately wished my arms were long enough to reach forward and tug his hakama pleats into place, but they naturally fell into place anyway - why? - because our sensei is perfect, of course. All our sensei ROCK!

Dai sho

My classmates and I pose for pictures together between rehearsal and the recital and take several on Wen-Hsuan's polaroid camera that we could give to our teachers with a small gift. We write our messages to our sensei - too little space to express all the gratitude I feel. Meyu and I temporarily shed our hakama. We run through the utai again with Num and resolve to perform it louder still! We are re-hakama-ed by our dresser. As Meyu and I practice walking suriashi in the hall, Oe Sensei comes out, asks us to turn around to check our look, nods and starts to return to the dressing room. I whisper after him, "Oe Sensei!" He turned. I mouth, "Karakarakara'" and make 'twinkle' fingers to remind him of the image he gave me for Hagoromo. He finally grins at me! Now Tamoi Sensei comes out into the hall, and Oe-san gestures to him that we look fine. Always vigilant for unforeseen glitches, Tamoi-san comes to check for himself. He speaks to Meyu. "Tamoi-san wishes to re-tie your hakama." "Dozo," he asks permission. "Tamoi-san wants you to take them off and start again." I drop trou. My sensei kneels, centers my hakama and turns me back and forth as he expertly pulls the straps into place. Oe-san and Tamoi-san demonstrated dressing Katayama-san on the very first day, and I feel absolutely no embarrassment at this ritual - only gratitude that my pants wouldn't fall off onstage! The tightening of the straps focuses my center of energy around my gut - just where all the sensei had said it should be from the start! Standing kamae suddenly feels natural- Note to self: wear a tight sash around your gut when practicing. ... We wait. Meyu and I are getting nervous. "What do we do?" she asks. "I just know I'd feel better if I could wait near sensei," I say. So we poke our heads into the men's dressing room, and our sensei wave us in. Oh, our sensei look resplendent in their white kimono and gray hakama! Like small children saying their prayers, we gratefully sit seiza side by side on the tatami mat floor with our eyes meekly lowered. Our sensei laugh. We laugh at ourselves. It relaxes us. Sensei lead us out to prepare for our entrance. Tamoi Sensei tells Meyu to tuck my yukata down into my obi. I straighten the extra fabric and Tamoi-san gives my hakama one last pat into place. I try to calm my breathing. Suddenly, Meyu grabs me, "Kate, what's the first line?" "What, of the utai?" "No, Tamoi-san wants to make sure you remember your first line." "Ah tsu ma aa so bi no," I sing softly. Tamoi-san smiles in approval - He's right. If you can just get through the first line, everything else should fall into place. I grin back. We kneel. "Onegai ita shimas" If it pleases you. They leave me in the darkened backstage. I hear Meyu's voice strong and clear, and I imagine her dancing among the sakura. She exits. I rub her shoulder and enter. I take my place at the dai sho mae, kneel, open my fan and sing. I rise and feel Oe-san's comforting tweak at the bottom of my hakama. The audience disappears, and I see only the center post behind them and the four pillars as if through the mask. It's over before I know it, and we exit and kneel and bow to each other. "Arigato gozaimashita" Thank you for all you have done. We go out to watch the others perform. The Nihonbuyo dancers are beautiful, flirtatious, graceful, and stunning. The Kyogen actors make me laugh all over again at the jokes I have heard several times, and I marvel at the incredible challenge they had memorizing full scenes, lines and movement, and komai chants and dances as well! We head to the cast party, and I sit next to Katayama Sensei. ARGH! Why can't I speak Japanese so that I could tell him what this experience has meant to me??? An interpreter leans in to me and tells me that I looked great onstage. I thank her and tell her how hard my sensei worked to teach me. Katayama-san gestures to me and says, "Dai sho something something." (The dai sho mae is the first place an actor goes to begin a dance) The interpreter gasps in delight, "He says 'This one is first place.' He says you worked so hard and improved so much." I improved because my sensei worked so hard with me because I was such a disaster! My greatest goal for this evening's recital was to make my sensei proud. They are ichban (number one) dai sho.

In re-reading this months later, I have at last tumbled upon the meaning of Katayama-sensei's compliment. The Dai sho mae is the place on stage where the shimai dancer begins. In that poetic ambiguity and layering of meaning of the Japanese language, Sensei was letting me know that, although I had done well, I was still at the beginning - a lovely lace to be at my age. The journey begins.

My classmates

My classmates have become my dear friends. Wen-hsuan comes from Taiwan and studies Japanese culture at the University of Kyoto. She plays the koto and composes her own music. She took the Noh class last year and has been a source of good advice throughout this course. She chose Hagoromo because she wanted to dance a feminine piece this year. (The image of her in a samurai dance last year is so incongruous with her tiny, delicate form and sweet voice!) We consulted each other often about our shimai, and I loved how she floated around the stage in the Hagoromo mask. Meyu is a dancer and teaches communication through movement to junior high students using the Feldenkrais method. She has danced with a butoh company, and transforms into Kagetsu onstage. She speaks English very well and often explained something to me or translated for me. She is tall and thin and has a charming, anime-like lock of hair that falls over her forehead. Meyu, like me, often reacts out loud to new information from our sensei. That comes as a relief to me because I had been afraid that mm-hm, ohh, and ahh might be a breach of protocol. Sometimes I think sensei might have been tougher on Meyu than they were on the rest of us because she is the only native Japanese in the class. Maybe they just wished to give her extra support because she had to miss several classes in order to go to her job. Maybe they saw more potential in her because she really is so very good. Num is my English-speaking buddy. He is from Thailand but was educated in the UK. He is earning his PhD at Exeter University and is basing his thesis on this experience. Num's boyish features belie his experience and mature commitment. He teaches acting at a university in Thailand and has danced butoh and appeared in several productions and commercials. I love that Num takes pictures of food like I do, and he gives me recommendations of where to eat! I have become so attached to my classmates and hope that we will always stay in touch. They are all young enough to be my children, but I see them as my guides and my superiors in experience and talent. I was lucky to get into this class with these people.

Dress rehearsal

The big day arrived at last. I finished my packing because we were told that the after-party party might go all night. Our rehearsal would go all afternoon, and the Noh class was last on the docket. The Noh women and Kyogen women shared a dressing room, and with much help from my fellow performers and Tamato-san, our translator, I dressed in my yukata. Then I amused my cohorts by curling my hair with a curling iron and spraying it into place. There's my halo, Oe-sensei (karakarakarakara!) A dresser arrived from Kyoto University to get us into hakama pants. Mine were a gray gold and shimmered. Now we wait. Jonah-san told us to find and greet our teachers - even if they were changing clothes, and after the delights of the last class we were anxious to see them. Tamoi Sensei and Katayama Sensei looked glad to see us too. Oe Sensei was quiet and solemn. This beautiful theatre belongs to his family. Perhaps his reticence was to remind us to focus on the performance and not to disgrace them.... Our turn for rehearsal came, and our sensei first took us out on stage to talk about the space. Then we exited the stage through the little door, knelt and bowed to each other and said, "Onegai it shimas". All three sensei were providing our chorus. What an honor to have them all supporting us onstage! Meyu went first, and I patted her shoulder as she headed through the little door. Wen-hsuan and Num had run out to the audience watch our rehearsal and take photos. They too were a major source of support, but I started to get nervous anyway as I listened to Meyu's opening chant. What if I flubbed up? What if I disappointed my sensei after all their patient teaching? I closed my eyes and mentally visualized the stage as it would have looked through the tiny eyeholes of the Hagoromo mask. I focused on the last class and all the classes and whispered my opening to the chant. Ah tsu ma aa so bi no ka tsu ka tsu ni. I am a beautiful heavenly maiden, a beautiful heavenly maiden. I calmed. I heard the last note of Meyu's shimai. The little door slid open and she came through, gave me a quick smile, and I emerged onto the Oe stage. I took tiny steps to the dai sho mae, knelt slowly and almost without a wobble, opened my fan and sang. My gut muscles contracted, and I slowly rose and wondered if anyone could see my fan quiver. Then the oddest sensation came from behind as Oe Sensei tweaked my hakama pleats into place. It was comforting - like a non-verbal, "We have your back, kiddo." I danced, stopped on the wrong foot at sumi, let it go, see the moon, nejiru away, kakeru back, gather my focus, catch the wind, the treasures rain down from the heavens, gather them up and offer them to the audience, pull my wing over my chest, let it flap, soar across, turn and tilt down to see the sky, sea, and earth, swoop to the earth, nejiru away, kakeru with energy forward and build speed to the first pine, switch fan grip - no, don't grip but relax your hands - turn slowly and circle to the dai sho mae, look to the waki pillar, the sumi pillar, nejiru to the front and disappear from sight in the clouds. Close fan, rise, exit calmly. Our teachers called us out for notes. Katayama Sensei smiled and through the interpreter said, "No big changes." Rapture!! Then he proceeded to make several small changes. Still happy, I realized I had come to value the corrections as much or more than the praise. I exited to the backstage and caught Tamoi Sensei's eye. "Left stop sumi," I said ruefully. How many times had he had to run that part with me in my early classes? A slight smile played on his lips. "Left stop sumi," he nodded.

The last class

I wish I could put the pictures at the end of this post. You have already seen the incredible gift our sensei gave us tonight. Humor me, though by letting me do the big build up. It started with our sensei realizing that we still hadn't practiced in hakama, and that it would be very difficult for the Kagetsu actors to stamp in only their yukata. So they promptly took off their own hakama and dressed Meyu and Num. Love hath no greater sensei than he who will drop trou for a student's costume! Now properly dressed, we ran through everything in order. We bowed to our singers "backstage". We entered through the little door. We did our shimai and received notes. Finally, we sang the chant for Katayama-sensei as he danced. (He had to retrieve his hakama for that.) So we then met in the "backstage area", and Katayama-san told us that we had performed and that we had learned a great deal and done very well. So we were going to end the class now. My heart fell. It had hardly begun! Then Katayama-sensei said that Tamoi-sensei had something else he wanted us to do. 'Okay,' I thought, 'Maybe we're going to spend some time talking about the performance of Dojo-ji. I can be happy with that.' Tamoi said that we had worked very hard and that we had achieved more than they expected. That, as we knew, shimai are not a full Noh play, and therefore, we would not be wearing a Noh mask. However, they wished us to have the experience of how it would feel to move onstage in a mask. So they had brought a Kagetsu mask and a Hagaromo mask for us to put on - as well as a very special Noh fan that would be appropriate to use. I gasped and started to cry. Katayama-san laughed. We were all so grateful - I think they knew that we knew what a big deal this is. Amateurs don't get to act in the masks or touch the fans. We weren't even allowed to photograph the mask exhibitions. It was a tremendous gift. I took the Hagaromo mask by the string holes, raised her above my head and bowed to her, then turned her around and held her to my face. Tamoi-sensei tied the strings tightly and guided me to the dai sho, the starting position. They told me not to kneel because this was no longer a shimai but part of a Noh play. I began my dance. It is very hard to see through the mask holes, and we didn't have real pillars - just stools at the corners; so I flubbed a couple times, but as I got toward the end of the piece, I relaxed and let the mask take over. I realized that my face had fallen into her expression, and I felt like I was flying. Katayama-sensei was singing, and Tamoi-sensei made the sounds of the drummer and drum. I felt their support and that of my classmates. Each of us, in turn, had our moment to glimpse what a Noh actor experiences. What magic. What communion. What a gift.

Pre-show Meditations

After the thrill of yesterday's event at the Kanze Kaikan Noh Theater, I am more determined not to disappoint my teachers. They have often mentioned that we have done better than they expected. A classmate told me that, last year, there were several students who were lazy and reluctant to get up and try. Our teachers don't expect us to master techniques in 3 weeks that they have spent a life time learning, but they do want us to give every effort to perform "real Noh - not sort of Noh" (Tamoi-san) That's what we intend to do to the best of our abilities. --- What will I bring home from this experience? The confidence that this 53 year-old out-of-shape body can be pushed to achieve grace onstage, the sense of the power of stillness onstage, the internalization of emotion so that it is focused through the energy of the movement, a sense of the completion of each moment and yet the ease of flow of one moment to the next - That happens if Kyogen too as I observed in their rehearsal last night. --- What will I miss? The surprise of a lovely arrangement of stones or plants in a little alley, the smiles on my teachers' faces when they see they have illuminated another mystery for us, the communal rising note of voices saying,"eeeeeeeehhhhhh!" in a surprised reaction that happens all the time in Kyoto, and the kindness of the people here when I'm lost or have to finish a job. Our last class will be tonight. I know I will miss our sensei most of all.

Dojoji - Rite of Passage

All the Noh students and two of the Nihonbuyo students attended Dojo-ji today at the Kanze Kaikan Theater. Once again, the bill included an entire afternoon of performances. At noon, the chorus and musicians entered, and Tamoi-sensei led off the singing. Meyu and I agreed that Tamoi-sensei looked very handsome in his Noh kimono and hakama, and the mai dance was very stirring. The drums and flute really rocked! The Noh play that followed was mostly about the dance not the drama: An envoy from the emperor happens upon a temple where a young boy dances for him. It was a little slow, and I confess that I nodded off a couple times. Ella told me that she watched a whole row of Japanese fall asleep though, so I didn't feel guilty. According to some, falling asleep is part of the experience...hmmm - don't know about that one. Anyway, for those of us taking the Noh class, the chanting and shimai held special interest. Num turned to us after the first one and said,"We really need more practice." I'm going to go over the chant we have to do 1000 times tonight and tomorrow. Oe-sensei and Katayamaa-sensei were part of the chorus for all four shimai. We were scribbling down questions for them as we watched. Whay do some of them have different colored hakama? Why do they hold their fans one way for this song and another way for this chant? At one point, a Noh actor who must have been 90 years old came out to do a shimai. He had trouble getting up from the original squat position. We noted with pride that it was our two sensai from the chorus who steadied him, and he went on with the dance flawlessly from there. I will NOT complain about how hard it is to get up ever again. Tamoi-sensei told us that stuff goes wrong all the time and that we just have to keep going as if nothing was the matter. The mai dancer stood and sent Tamoi-san's fan spinning. Tamoi-san caught it, and then leaned forward to straighten the dancer's hakama. The Dojo-ji actor's hat fell off before it was supposed to, and a koken retrieved it and found a spot in the blocking when they could tie it back on. (A key moment is when the shite knocks the hat from his head with his fan. It's not supposed to come off before then.) The chorus, koken, actors, and musicians are all very supportive of each other, and everyone goes on with the show. The Kyogen play was funny and beautifully timed. It didn't matter that I couldn't understand the words. But Dojo-ji just blew us all away. Four guys carried on a big bell. They unwrapped its rope and threaded it through a pulley using 12-foot poles. Five other guys hoist the bell up supporting each other with their arms wrapped round their partners' waists. The priest told the comic Kyogen-actor servants not to let any women in (See "Passion" August 4 Post) So you know the story, they let in the shirabyoshi dancer, and she does this tortuously intricate step in a snake pattern for 30 minutes. We were riveted. The shoulder drum player lets out a howl like a banshee in agony. The shite angles right and freezes. The howl dies away. The shite is frozen. The drummer 'tocks' the drum. The shite lifts his toes and freezes. The drummer tocks again. The toe drops. The drummer growls like a threateninng wind. The shite's foot slides forward. The drum tocks. The shite lifts toes. Long pause. The drum tocks. The toes drop. I've never heard or seen anything like it. By the end of the angular approach to the bell, my shoulders were in my ears, and I couldn't remember blinking or breathing. Then all hell broke loose! The drums and flute went wild and the shite was flying all over the stage. He slides under the suspended bell, and as he jumps in the air, the koken let the bell drop. If the timing is off one iota, the shite can break his neck in the heavy bell. Thank heavens for the comic relief of the servants trying to pass the buck on who should tell the priest. Everyone relaxed, and the priests went to work with their rosary rattling untill the bell lifted revealing the shite in a demon mask and a costume with a snake scale pattern on it. The ensuing fight is quick and energetic, and the shite's movement is entirely different from the previous dance. Tamoi-sensei sang in the chorus for this performance, and I kept thinking about how he had gone through this rite of passage five years ago. Meyu and I were crying and clapping, and we didn't stop until the last chorus member had exited. Now we know why Tamoi-sensei was so anxious for us to see this performance. This was our rite of passage too.

Better -- kadlakadlakadlakadla

So I rehearsed my shimai (dance) of the character 'Hagaromo' several times last night. Hagaromo is a "beautiful heavenly maiden" who took off her feathered robe to go swimming in an earthly lake. A fisherman finds the robe and takes it. Hagaromo begs him to give it back, for without it, she cannot return to Heaven. At first he refuses but then relents when she promises to dance as the heavenly beings do. As she dances, she is flying and floating. She gathers all the treasures of Heaven (metaphorically speaking) and gives them to the audience before she disappears from sight into the air........ I finished my first run-through and thought to myself, "Well that didn't suck." Oe-sensei got up, walked onto the stage area, and said, "Better." I really thought I had gone to Heaven. After practice, he was urging us to continue to work hard but to remember to engage the audience with the characters as well. The boy in 'Kagetsu' (Meyu and Num are performing that) is young and merry and having fun entertaining visitors to the temple. Hagaromo is a beautiful heavenly maiden (as I have mentioned before)and to show that she is holy, we must have beautiful posture and imagine ourselves wearing a halo like Buddha. This halo spreads like an aura until our whole being emits light. -- At this point, Oe-san made a funny sound like, "kadlakadlakadlakadla" A little like karakarakara with a slightly rolled r. In English, it would probably be "twinkle twinklw twinkle." We all cracked up. I imagine that that will be his final word to me before I enter the stage on Tuesday. kadlakadlakadlakadla

Kinkakuji - the Golden Pavilion

Other than Nara, which I may not make it to, this was the last place on my "Must see" list. Although, wait a minute, I forgot about the place with the hundreds of torii gates than a friend photographed for me because, frankly, my feet and legs have had it! Kinkakuji, in spite of the crowds, is pretty neat. The top two stories are completely covered in gold leaf. It's a little weird to see the tourists throwing money among statues of Buddha in an effort to get a coin into the alms bowl in the center, but, for the most part, the tourists were an older set - like me, and remained respectful of the area and each other. Kinkakuji was a retreat of a shogun whose son turned it into a temple upon his father's death. Then a crazy monk burned it down (There is now a shrine to the fire god on the grounds...), and they rebuilt the place and restored everything in 1987?? The gardens were always there, and they are lovely - although I liked the diversity of the gardens at Ginkakuji better. Ginkakuji, BTW, means the Silver Pavilion, but it's not really silver. It used to be completely covered in black laquer that apparently glowed silver in the moonlight. -- And you were complaining that you had to repaint the house this summer!

Signs

I just think these are funny. The AED's are prominently featured on the maps of the temples that you have to walk a distance to get to. You feel like you need one by the time you get there. The ads and names of places are amusing too. I don't know if you can see the small yellow sign, but it's for a car repair shop and says, "Car boo-boo."

In all your philosophy

There are so many things to see in Kyoto, and I know I'm going to miss a lot of sights and be chastised by those in the know (noh), but I did finally get to Philosopher's Walk and Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavilion. The Tetsugaku-no Michi itself is lovely and winds along a narrow canal in the eastern mountains overlooking Kyoto. However, bad directions sent me there by subway; so it took an hour's walk to get to the bottom of the 1/2 hour Philospher's Walk. I was overheated and panting when I went into Eikan Temple and actually prayed to Buddha to get me through this ordeal and not let me pass out. The Eikan Temple has a lovely story about the abbot taking a walk when an embodiment of Buddha appeared walking beside him. The abbot stopped in surprise, and the embodiment of the Buddha turned, smiling, and said, "Abbot, you are late!" So, bolstered by Buddha's sense of humor, I figured I would try to keep up and continued the rest of the way to Ginkaku-ji where the reluctant shogun, Yoshimasa, developed a great deal of how we characterize Japanese traditional culture. He made the classic tea room, developed an incense ceremony, designed gardens and the Silver Pavilion, and patronized the Noh theatre. The gardens were incredible: Moss gardens, sand gardens, ponds, and groves. I was so glad I made it.

Passion

Remember how excited I was to have seen 6 hours of Bunraku theatre? Well, on August 8, I'm going to have another one of those 'iminheaven' days. During our tour of a the Oe family Noh theatre, we found a program indicating that the play "Dojo-ji" (aka The Temple Bell) would be performed on August 8 at the Kanze Kaikan Theatre. Our classmate, Meyou, reserved tickets for us because we knew it was a free day from class. We had a description of the plot from the Nihonbuyo teacher ( See the post, "More Day 2") but that was nothing compared to the passion that Tamoi-sensei brought to us tonight! It was after a great class that Tamoi-sensei brought out the same program, and was pleased that we knew it was a special thing. Acting the lead role (called the shite, pronounced shitay) in Dojo-ji is like a final examination for a young actor. It might be considered comparable to being ready to play Hamlet - It's a really really really big deal. Anyway, Tamoi-sensei walked us through what we're going to experience: The waki role, a priest, comes out and tells the story of a woman who had the hots for a monk. The monk ran away from her, but she pursued him to a temple where the other monks hid him under a bell. Her obsession revealed her true form of a snake, and she wound herself around the bell. Her passion burned so much that the bell turned firey hot, and the monk was killed. In despair, she threw herself into the river and drowned. Now this same temple has replaced the bell and is going to dedicate it on this day. Kyogen actors playing the temple staff members, bring in the bell (It's huge and takes 5 men to haul it up on a pulley), and the priest tells them that no women can attend the dedication ceremony. A shirabyoshi dancer (a woman who cross dresses and dances erotically) shows up at the temple and cons the staff members into letting her in to see the bell. They say, "Okay" in a moment of bad judgement. -- (Mind you, Tamoi-san is acting out snippets of everyone's role as he tells us this story) Now the shite actor does this tortuous 30 minute dance with minute movements in small triangles (the shape of a snake's scale) as the shirabyoshi dancer makes her way up the 'temple stairs.' Then she pulls down the bell and jumps under it. The temple staff cofess to the priest that they've made a big mistake, and the priest prays around the bell. Finally, the priest is able to get the bell to raise, and the shite is revealed as the ghost of the snake woman!! (The shite changes his costume inside the bell in total darkness.) They have a big battle of wills, and the snake is finally defeated and jumps back into the river. (Insert 'whew' here) Here's the kicker, Tamoi-sensei told us that he did this performance as his rite of passage 5 years ago, and that he had a lot of support that he could not directly re-pay, but by giving this younger actor similar support and by sharing this performance with us, he could indirectly pay back the debt and pass on the gift to the next generation. Passion.
In addition to "Dojo-ji" the ticket price of about $75 includes another Noh play, a Kyogen, 4 dances and 2 songs. It's going to be quite a day. And the reason we don't have class that day? All our sensei will be attending to support this young actor, of course. They wouldn't miss it either. Passion.

Dining out with sensei

The Noh students and a few others had a party last night with our Noh teachers. This was really special because the other classes aren't doing this until the big party on the night of our recital. We went to a little restaurant that was hidden at the end of an alley, took off our shoes, and went upstairs to a tatami mat room with a low table. The wait staff placed little bells on the table. Whenever we wanted to order more drinks or food, one of us would ring a bell and we'd hear several people downstairs yell, "HAI!" Then we'd all laugh and applaud. It was a little awkward because only Num and I knew no Japanese, and those who could speak any English were limited in their ability to translate the long stories and explanations of our sensei. We had a lot of fun anyway, and I learned that they are coming to the US to tour Noh productions in Boston, NYC, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Chicago, and (oddly) Louisville, Kentucky! I will have to try to get to one of those cities when they are performing. We had no fish at this dinner. It was mostly chicken, and several dishes they identified as chicken "guts". The weirdest dish was chicken sashimi -- That's right: RAW CHICKEN. Yes, I did eat it - very tasty with a salty sesame oil sauce. The bill came to more than had been announced to us. I was preparing to pull out the extra when Katayama-san, Tamoi-san, and Oe-san decided that the sensei would make up the difference. VERY kind.

So so so so so so so

When one does something right in class, the sensei says, "So so so so so so so." The number of so's is proportionate to HOW well one does. I live for lucky 7. I got a couple of those last night, and then I got a couple 3 so's, and one "so." Anyway, I'm progressing. I stand in 'kamae' as I wait for the subway and move my lips to the chant as I listen to it on my headphones. Everyone thinks I'm crazy, so they just move away on the platform. So then I hold my closed umbrella like a fan and start to pratice my dance! I watch the dvd of Katayama-sensei dancing Hagoromo as I eat lunch in the common room of the hotel and then run through the movements between the chairs and tables, hoping that no one will walk in at that moment! I go to sleep listening to the recording of the chant and wake up with it in my head. So I'm literally eating, sleeping, and living Noh theatre. In my experience, the things that were the hardest to learn are the ones that have stayed with me forever. SO if you see some old bag chanting to herself and walking 'suriashi' around Bflo. for the next several years, relax; it's just me.

Feeling competitive

Katayama-san said something surprising the other day. He was urging us to practice hard and confessed that he was feeling competitive with the teachers of the other disciplines, Nihonbuyo and Kyogen. Then last night, Oe-san really worked on our kamae form and said, "Practice very hard because you have me again as your teacher tomorrow night!" They both grinned as they said this, and we chuckled nervously, but clearly the pressure is on. We don't want to disappoint our teachers; so we are all spending extra hours at the center every day to practice. My biggest challenge right now (besides how beat up my feet feel) is learning the chant we have to memorize. It would be one thing to memorize a chant of English words (NOW THE HUN GRY LI ON ROAR SAND THE WOLF BE HOWLS THE MOON) but these are disjointed Japanese words in medieval dialect. They do mean something, but even the Japanese have trouble translating it. It's apparently all about flying above the world and standing with one foot on a treasure - very poetic and Katayama-san will be dancing while we chant it. So this is an 8th of what I'm faced with on the page: SU NA WA CHI SU GA TA WO A RA WA SHI TA MA I TE TE N NO SA SU TE WA... You see my problem? By the way, I typed that without looking at the page; so I'm making headway. I just don't want to 'let the side down'.

Daitokuji Zen

There is a complex of temples in northwest Kyoto. Some of the gardens are the ones you see in the travel brochures. I needed a little Zen in my life; so I went to the nearest subway stop and walked west about 15 minutes to this walled community. A man at the ticket gate gave me a small map with the public temples circled. Some are only open for special occasions, and others are always private. The roads are paved with stone and cement, and the odd car of resident abbots or monks will occasionally drive by, but otherwise, it's very quiet. There were "moss" gardens - actually covered with those little teeny pine-looking plants that areall tied together in one community. There were stone and sand gardens with the sand raked high representing stormy seas. As you enter a temple through a garden, you will make 3 turns, giving you the sense that you are making a long journey and leaving the outer world behind. You pay a fee at each temple (about $5) but you can stay in each as long as you want to. My favorites were Ziuhou-in and Kouto-in. Zuihou-in has several of the stone gardens, and you can sit and contemplate the patterns quietly. I have heard that it's not the rocks and stones and plants, necessarily, but the space between that should draw ones attention. Kouto-in has a bamboo grove surrounding it. I had never been amidst bamboo like that. It's lovely and mysterious. You can put on these little rubber slippers to walk on the stone path and look at the little grave plots tucked into the trees. Izumo-no Okuni, the creator of kabuki, is said to be buried there, but no one knows where. I like to think of her dancing among the bamboo trees.

Lifelong learning

I visited a university yesterday where teachers of k-12 students were taking a week-long refresher course to be re-certified. Teachers in Japan have to be re-tested every 5 years and take workshops, classes, and tests that are vigorously observed. The roll was taken after every break to make sure that no one had just punched in an left! Doji Shigeyama, of the prestigious Okura School, one of the Kyogen actors teaching at the Kyoto Art Center, introduced these teachers to some kata associated with Kyogen. Jonah Salz, the Traditional Theatre Training program director, gave them some background and understanding of the current movements in Kyogen. Then they chose stories from Aesop's fables or Japanese folk tales and rehearsed in groups to perform them using some of the techniques they had learned. They were so committed! I have friends who teach theatre who go running for the door as soon as someone says, "Move the chairs to the sides of the room." These people really worked on their fables and performed them to the best of their ability. It was interesting to me that the older teachers showed more confidence, and the yonger ones were more inhibited. The reverse is often true in the USA when it comes to non-theatre teachers taking a drama workshop. I thanked them very much for letting me be fly on the wall. I must tell Doji-san how impressed I was at his patience and generosity in giving the workshop. I hope all those schools buy tickets for his next performance.

Continue with that attitude of calm

This should have been posted a week ago, but I was having internet issues and then forgot about it.

Class is going well although it still is physically painful. Everyone complains on the way home about knees, feet,and backs. I wish I could pick up the choreography faster, but I just write it all down and then practice on my own like a madwoman. It surpises my teachers every time when I float through the stuff that I stumbled through the day before. Tamoi Sensei noted my "attitude of calm" with clear approval. So I'm making progress. Tamoi Sensei used a great teaching device yesterday. He was explaining that you can't twist your body as you turn. Every part has to turn at once. So he threaded a bamboo rod across his back and showed how it would wobble if he twisted as he turned. We all tried it, and it really helped us understand when we were moving correctly. We started to learn the chant we are going to perform too. Memorizing apparently disjointed syllables is going to be a challenge for the 2 of us who don't speak Japanese. I intend to do it with an attitude of calm.

BUNRAKU

Bunraku is the puppet theatre of Japan. It takes 3 puppeteers to operate these puppets that are 2/3 the size of a human. A chanter sits to the stage left side (house right) and does all the voices and narration as a shamisen player beside him supplies accompaniment that sets and sort of conducts the scene. I went to Osaka today to the National Bunraku Theatre - another dream come true. I started with the children's show at 11:00 where the art of Bunraku was explained, and several children were invited onto the stage to try to manipulate puppet. That demo was followed by a lovely fairy tale about a fox who falls in love with a hunter and takes human form to be with him. Even though the younger puppeteers performed this play, I marveled at the expressiveness of the puppets. Afterwards, a few of them came out to the lobby so that the children could see them up close. The 2:00 PM production, "The Summer Festival in Naniwa" was distinctly for adults, and my heart was pounding throughout the 4th act! It's a convoluted plot with several subplots, but the climax is when Danshichi is so enraged that he commits a murder during the summer festival. The music, chanting, and action took my breath away. The early acts were performed by all hooded puppeteers. Then as the tension mounted, the main characters each had a master puppeteer holding thehead and right arm who was unmasked. The chanters and shamisen players later in the piece were clearly older and more experienced as well. I was sucked right into the play. I literally gasped at some of the plot twists. I don't have the words to explain what this full day of Bunraku was like, but when the final curtain fell at 6:00 PM, I turned to the Japanese lady beside me with tears in my eyes, and she smiled and nodded emphatically. It was the same for her.